Sea and Land, Man and Demon
by HecateA
Summary: An ocean and two hundred years away from the London Institute of Charlotte and Henry Branwell is the last witness to the terrible events that tore it apart and left London cursed for Shadowhunters, and even she doesn't know the full story. Cameos by other Shadowhunter series. Oneshot.


**This story is going to be rather complicated, and although it'd be best if you'd have read the Mortal Instruments, it's not necessary as there are no series spoilers in this. Also, there are mentions to the Dark Artefacts, which is the series that Cassie Clare is planning on writing.**

**It was based off this tumblr post that Cassandra Clare posted as an April Fool's joke. It was writen for my friend, who shall not be named on the Internet but is TobiasWillJaceFinnickFourNine on fanfiction, for her birthday. So happy birthday! **

**Dedication: To TobiasWillJaceFinnickFourNine**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Infernal Devices, or the cameos that you will see at the top and bottom of this story.**

* * *

Sea and Land, Man and Demon

Church found his way through the Institute. He was well used to the noble and strict appearances of Institutes by now. But they always seemed eerie to him when they were quiet. When the Shadowhunters were busy and the doors were closed, when they weren't training or sharing jokes or roaming around, it looked to her as if someone had died. Like the place was haunted now, by secrets untold and lives lost young.

Well, maybe that was just his last memory of Institutes biasing her vision.

He knew that Jace was in the library, so he decided to go there and see if he could get scratched between the ears or cuddled with or _something. _Oh, he was such a pet now; it was horrible but so much easier at the same time.

He walked over to library. He liked the feeling of being a cat. The way your legs moved and your shoulders rolled and your tail balanced it out… the whole operation was so fluid and instinctive, two-legged beings would never understand. Mundane and Shadowhunter alike.

The door was just a crack open, so Church weaseled his way through it. Jace didn't like getting disturbed when he read- an odd habit considering he was like most airheaded teenage boys with good looks who knew they had good looks. Church had observed that since he'd gotten to the Institute; there had been no change, although the books he plunged into had gotten bigger and thicker, and the languages and alphabet had gotten more abnormal. They made him think of someone else she'd once known.

Church didn't meow on his way in so that he wouldn't impose herself if Jace was indeed reading. He froze as he moved forwards.

Clary was sitting on the desk wearing a denim jacket with a bunch of buttons of bands –mostly Simon's group, out of pure friendship- on it over a black dress. The heels of her converse sneakers clapped together. Jace stood in front of her holding her hands and watching her face, watching her smile.

"_And though the sea and land separate us still_

_Though men and demon try to break our will_

_I know the angels have lined our stars_

_I know that one day we'll break through the bars._

_/_

_But for now the choice is yours, and your hand is his_

_And I wish you both long lives and bliss_

_But still, one day I know this to be true:_

_I'll die and the last words on my lips will be about you."_

Clary bit down on her lips and squeezed his hand.

Church felt sick as the words danced in his head, two voices echoing together, mixing with the last time she'd heard that poem… It wasn't very famous, but let's just say that more than one Shadowhunter knew it.

"That's beautiful, Jace." Clary said. "But… Don't worry too much about that last part. My hand will never belong to anyone by you, and I will die right next to you."

_Some of us don't have that option, _Church growled. He felt like hissing and striking Clary across the little freckled face. Then he thought of...

_No, _he thought. _I mustn't. _

"I have a dangerous life. That's quite unsettling to hear." He said.

"Oh, shut up, you." Clary said with a smile.

"Never," he said. He scooped her up off the table, bridal style. "I am going to bubble wrap you and put you in the safest institution of Alicante."

"Jace!" She said when he picked her up. He spun around a few times and Clary clung to his collar, laughing.

"And I'll hire a pack of werewolves to guard the safest institution in which you will be bubble wrapped. And then, just to make sure, I will stand guard too."

"And that will make all the difference, now won't it?" Clary replied, arching an eyebrow and rolling her eyes.

"It'll give you something pretty to look at." Jace said.

Church wanted to be sick. He could hack up a hairball on the floor-right there. Something one of them would hopefully step on- no matter how dreadful it was to wish that on them.

He couldn't stop them from being in love and goofy and fluffy. They were young, and they'd had hard times try to bring them apart.

Jace put Clary back down.

"Thank you," she said. "Don't ever do that to me again. Don't ever pick me up again."

"What if we get married?" Jace asked.

"That's an exception. All rules break down on wedding days." Clary said.

"Really?" Jace asked. "I'm tempted to bring you to Vegas right now, then."

"Your thoughts are so irreversibly dirty," Clary said shaking her head.

"Actually, I'm being very serious." Jace said. He took Clary's hand and reached into his pocket. He took out two rings, whose metals had been melted together.

"It's traditional to give a girl your family ring when you wish to marry her," Jace said seriously now. Clary's jaw dropped and her face lightened up.

"Oh my God."

"I wasn't sure if you'd want the Lightwood one, or my technical one, so I had Magnus melt them together," Jace said. "That said; it would really be unfortunate for you to say no now, especially after I talked Magnus out of assisting to the proposal. He wanted doves to be involved. Not to mention that I would never get over losing you."

"Stop the nervous drabbling, Jace." Clary said.

"Well then will you marry me, Clary Fray?" He asked.

Clary was nearly crying at this point, and she nodded.

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes, of course." She repeated over and over again.

Jace fitted the ring on her finger.

"I love it," Clary said. "It's so much like you… And I love you."

"I love you too," Jace said, wrapping his arms around her waist. She put her arms around his neck. Church forgot all about the poem and was just giddy all over.

He played the innocent and unknowing household animal card and strode into the room. He hopped onto the chair and then onto the table, and curled up with Clary.

She gave a hiccup of surprise. "Oh, Church," Clary said. "Hey boy…"

This always slightly insulted her. Six trained Shadowhunters, one werewolf, one drop-out Shadowhunter, and near-permanent fixtures consisting of a warlock and a vampire, all of which had saved the world; yet they were incapable of associating her with the right gender. Oh well, it was probably Magnus' doing. Also, it was probably for the best. She'd gotten used to thinking of herself as a boy, even referring to herself as one sometimes.

Jace backed up some and Church leapt on Clary's lap and cuddled up.

Clary laughed, her cheeks still wet. "Here," she said. "Look at this, Church. We're getting married." Clary said holding her left hand lower.

Church froze. She stopped cuddling. Her heart beat faster. Her blood froze in her veins.

"I love how the first one we tell is the cat," Jace said.

There was the Lightwood ring with the burning log crest that Church knew well enough. She'd been petted by hands wearing that ring a million times, whether by Maryse and Robert, or the kids.

The one above it had birds flying around it.

Church's cat eyes froze on that one.

"Think he likes it, Jace." Clary said. "It's not for you, boy, it's mine."

That broke Church's resolve. She looked up at Jace. She… He was right… there… the last of the… all along…

She leapt off of her lap and ran out of the library, forcing her mind to keep it together…

The second she was back into the library she ran faster than any cat could, unleashing the borders she'd sworn herself to as camouflage.

She ran and soon she wasn't on four legs but on two, velvet swirling around her legs, hair falling on her shoulders, hurt and pain twisting her stomach and shooting into her chest, tears ruining her once pristine animal vision. Running in a corset was no easy business, but Tessa pushed and pushed and she _had _to get away from Jace… Clary… Jace Herondale…

She got to a dead end she'd forgotten about and braced her running into the wall with outstretched hands. She sunk to the floor and pulled her legs to herself, legs she hadn't used in a long time.

She was still the same. She didn't have a mirror, but she felt the same. Long legs, long hair that looked brown as it flailed across her face, running. She didn't see any reason for her eyes not to be grey anymore.

She hadn't been the same since… Not since Will had recited the words Jace had repeated. Jace his descendant- _oh God, he'd kept his promise._

She remembered that night. It was in England. In the Institute, the first one she'd been and lived in. It was raining outside- of course it was raining, it was England. Jem had told her numerous times: it always rained in England.

She remembered that night crystal clearly. She remembered the nights leading up to that night. She remembered them all. The more she tried not to, the more the details flourished, the brighter the colours on the walls became, the louder the voices of the Shadowhunters and servants were. It was a pain. Tessa rather live through her first transformations a million times while being bitten by cobras and cut by blades as sharp as the memories were.

She remembered the night. The night all things fell apart, the night the Institute itself had died.

They'd been fussing over a map in the drawing room, everybody in the Institute. Even Sophie, Thomas and Gideon, Charlotte who was ill, Tessa who wasn't a Shadowhunter, Cecily who wasn't trained…

* * *

Charlotte had moved a block across the map and she was about to say something, when the room backing out into the streets exploded. Pieces of the wall, lights who had been hanging on, and furniture previously arranged against it showered around them. Will pushed down on Cecily and Tessa, and they were under the table.

When the dust settled Tessa crawled out which was most unladylike, and Will followed and got up.

It was three of those infernal devices, the automatons with clockwork hearts and clockwork brains that knew only how to attack. They were armed most heavily, and their eyes glowed red brighter than streetlights. Judging from the ruby red spots getting bigger, more were coming, advancing towards the Institute.

"We're too late," Sophie gasped.

They were late because the funeral had upset their schedules.

Yes. Jem's funeral.

Charlotte drew her weapons first. "Too late does not mean surrendering," she said word by word.

They all drew weapons. Will tossed Tessa a knife and she caught it out of the air.

Charlotte had been the first to charge and she'd yelled STAY BACK! What she held up wasn't a weapon; it looked like a glass orb filled with gauges, familiar looking clockwork bulges the size of Tessa's fingernail, vapour, and something that gave off light.

"No!" Henry yelled. "DON'T!"

Charlotte had ignored him. She pulled the pin which was long and thin much like a hairpin, and it'd gone off. Henry's nightmare device, the one he'd told none of them to even _touch, _much less take out of the workshop and _use_…

The shock was felt even backwards, and Tessa was pushed against the table and she tripped.

By some God-given miracle it worked. The automatons, the closest 5 rows of them, Tessa would say, were gone.

Except for one. He must be the leader; because he was big. And he grabbed Charlotte by the throat. She choked and drew a seraph blade, but before she could even swing she was thrown onto the wall.

Charlotte had knocked her head against the wall of the drawing room. The impact was great, and her neck had snapped at such an angle that they knew right away that runes would be simple pictures if drawn upon her skin.

Henry had yelled as loudly as any man could and Tessa's heart broke some more. It didn't wake her up.

Her baby bump was showing by then.

Will grabbed Henry and pulled him away from where he tried to run as Sophie ran to take a pulse anyways.

"Draw your weapon! Draw your weapon!" He told Henry.

"Charlotte-"

"Yes she's dead, don't let it be bloody you next, Henry!" Will yelled.

He reached to Henry's tool belt, took out a seraph blade and put it in Henry's hand. As petrified and scared as he looked, Henry's hand closed around it.

"Come on, this way, we must get out of the building!" Gideon said, opening the far door, leading Sophie by the hand.

The Institute had been filled with fog- manmade fog. Mortmain himself without a doubt. There was no way to tell where they were going.

"Let's split up!" Tessa said. "In groups of two so we don't get lost, one trio! We'll meet back at- at the Lightwood Mansion! First two there send a message for help, that the Institute is being attacked!"

And so they ran. Henry, Cecily (who had a calming effect on Henry) and Thomas, Gideon and Sophie, Will and Tessa; off they went in three different directions.

Guess which group Tessa had never seen again?

She and Will ran one way, he leading her by the hand.

"Any particular plan?" Tessa asked. "Or are you just dragging me?"

"Yes," Will said. "Keep your hand on the right wall. Like Theseus did in the myths. The labyrinth can't be that different from the Institute's floor plan, now can it?"

Without a better plan herself, she did that. Finally they got to the door, some small detail bugging Tessa…

"Something's bothering me, it's on the tip of my tongue, it's important…" Tessa said.

"Is it the fact that there are more than two sets of footsteps in this hall?" Will said. "Because that's very aggravating to me."

Tessa listened. It wasn't two more, so it wasn't any of the others.

"We're followed." Tessa said.

"Yes, in this scenario I usually suggest that we run faster." Will said. Tessa wished that her corset weren't as tight, but she ran as fast as she could.

But something else slowed her down. The angel at her neck was pressed against her skin and the familiarly cold metal was now uncomfortable, painful even. It weighed a ton all of a sudden, and Tessa heard it ticking feverously.

"Will!" She said. "Will, stop! Stop running!"

"Why would I do that?" Will demanded, "Run! Tessa!"

"No!" Tessa said. "I understand now!"

"Fabulous, let's return to running for our lives." Will said. She didn't budge. "Tessa-" He reached for her hand but she swatted him away.

"Henry's original plans, the ones a woman he didn't know gave him, that made him want to build! He made the explosive gadget Charlotte used based off of them! The gears in there were exactly like the gears in here," Tessa said, holding up her clockwork angel.

"What?" Will asked.

"That woman was my mother, Will. She was a Shadowhunter; she was parting with her plans and weapon diagrams to part with the world!"

"But… you're a warlock…"

"My father was the warlock," Tessa said. "That's why nobody was sure of _what _I was! And it's not like Shadowhunters often fall in love and birth the children of Downworlders, I guess that warlocks _can _have children with Shadowhunters. All those clues, those hints… Like foreshadowing in a book Will, it was there all along! This is the climax moment where everything is figured out!" _And fixed, hopefully. Pretty, pretty please. _

"But Shadowhunter blood…"

"Is prominent," Tessa said. "Of course. But the Dark sisters gave me potions when they abducted me, it was to make the warlock blood stronger, to show my gifts. Why do you think Mortmain had my parents killed? He wanted the family gift to be passed on to me. He's been trying to groom me to be his since I was a child."

"But your mother saw it coming," Will said.

"And gave me a weapon. One last thing to protect me." Tessa nodded, the hand not holding onto Will's touching the angel. She tugged her other one away. "Go back, I'll make it go off. But you're not immortal, you could get heard."

"Neither are you if you're not technically a Warlock."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't. But it is not a chance I am willing to take." Will said.

"Go," Tessa said. "Now. I'll… I'll do it."

"Let's not until we have to, okay? Keep it." Will said. "Let's not kill ourselves before the action starts."

_That's what Jem did, _Tessa thought bitterly. _He wasted what little drugs his body could take before this. _

They ran some more, blindly. Tessa tripped thrice, Will twice.

"Damn, I've nearly sunk to your level. If there's any time I've ever needed an angel's agility it's now." Will said as a joke.

Finally they found a door. Tessa pulled at the handle.

"It's locked!"

"Then it must be the right one!" Will said triumphantly.

Will kicked the door down with the strength of a coursing river and he grabbed Tessa's hand and pulled her inside with him.

They were right; the door did lead to the mud room, from the door directly under the cherry wood staircase. But they froze.

Mortmain himself stood in the Institute's open doors. His face was partially cloaked, but Tessa knew that it was him. And next to him in Shadowhunter gear was… was…

"Lightwood?" Will asked. "What are you doing here you Demon Poxing git?"

Benedict Lightwood met Will's eyes. "I am here to claim back the Institute that is finally mine. Charlotte Branwell is dead?"

"Of course. The price you put on your loyalty." Mortmain said, somehow making the words frivolous and nonchalant, yet serious at once.

Red glowing dots started appearing behind the pair of them. More automatons.

"What about you two? What is the price for your loyalties? Tessa Gray? William Herondale?"

"It's not for sale," Will growled.

"Shame, really. I worked hard to talk to Marbas the demon through that pyxis."

"You did not." Will said. The break in his voice told Tessa that yes, Mortmain had.

"Mmm. And Tessa. Sweet, beautiful, clever girl. I have waited long for someone like you. I knew your father had the gift of the change. But I needed someone to marry. Someone to mother children who would obey to their father."

"Children don't always obey their fathers." Will said. "Leave her alone, you foul-"

"Enough," Mortmain said. "This is her last chance at freedom. If she accepts this, I call off my army."

"No," Will said.

But what was she to do? Even if somebody had made it to the Lightwood house, they wouldn't be able to contact the Clave for help since they had turned. They might already be dead on the manor steps, even Gideon.

_And it was my idea to meet up there…_

"Don't do it," Will said.

"Automatons aren't controllable forever, you know." Mortmain said. "There could be an… accident."

"Tess, if you do it, he'll hurt you so badly, _my _world will end," Will whispered.

Tessa had a better idea. It… It would rip her heart to shreds but she had to do it. She had to. For the sake of Jem who'd given his life keeping them safe from minor squabbles, for Charlotte who'd braved an army, for Henry who'd lost both his wife, child, home and passion in seconds, Gideon who'd left his home, Will… Sweet, gorgeous, good Will… She'd break his heart. She'd make him keep people at arm's length all over again.

Tessa brushed the dust off of her sleeve and picked up her skirts.

"Of course. We should get going." She'd told Mortmain.

She wasn't totally heartless. She turned to Will. "Live your life. But do it without me. Promise it."

"Tess-" He sounded so heartbroken; Tessa nearly lost her grip on the situation and broke down in tears.

"Swear it," Tessa demanded.

He looked her in the eyes and swallowed. "I promise."

* * *

Tessa was leaning against the wall, broken and crying and sure that Isabelle or Alec would stumble upon her anytime. But she couldn't stop it. She couldn't stop that night from coursing through her memory and tapping into her protective wall.

And now she'd found Jace.

Jace Herondale.

She knew it. She recognised Will's light in his eyes. She'd always liked Jace, always favoured him. She liked his arrogance and his humour, she liked how he read books for hours and how he was so much more. Somehow he'd always been endearing to the human side of her. He was an open book to her, she could read him.

Now she knew why.

There was an expression, rather cruel-sounding at the moment, which said 'cats don't make dogs'. It worked with the same concept as 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree'.

Well, she could piece two and two together now and figure out what _did _happen after she left the Institute.

She knew that Jem hadn't died after all. He'd still wanted to help them and with the help of Magnus Bane he'd made a fake corpse and had joined the Silent Brothers, figuring that long distance help was better than 'being trouble since he was ill'. Silent Brothers didn't get sick. This Tessa knew because she'd gotten a confession out of him at a Victory Celebration for Valentine Morgenstern's death. She'd stormed off early, but heard from the Institute's permanent fixtures that the rest of the evening had been beautiful.

She didn't know what had happened to Henry and Thomas. Their bodies had never been found, but apparently they _had _been seen near Lightwood mansion. Whether they'd been captured and then escaped, or whether they'd turned back right away, Tessa didn't know. Thomas could have easily gotten lost in the mundane world since he wasn't a Shadowhunter, and Tessa wished it on him. She had never heard the name 'Branwell' in a conversation. Tessa liked to assume that they'd both gotten out, but that Henry had been too heartbroken to ever marry, have children and pass the name on. A gloomy possibility but it was better than 'dead'. In her head she still hummed 'Happy birthday' every April 15th: Charlotte's due date for the baby boy who'd never had a chance to come.

She knew that Sophie and Gideon had never gotten out of the Institute, and that the Shadowhunters who'd reported to the site to search and scavenge what they could right after had found their bodies there; but Tessa liked to think that they'd both been hit and had died together, without a long enough break between one death and the other for the survivor to truly be crushed about losing the other. She knew that Gabriel Lightwood was spared from jail consequences for his family's betrayal because he'd been found tied up in the basement; supposedly he'd been trying to escape and warn his brother. But his mental health had gone downhill soon after the destruction of the Institute (with today's research, Tessa could say that it seemed very much like depression and schizophrenia), and he had killed himself. A real Lightwood suicide this time. She knew that Tatianna had named her children Lightwood to assure the survival of the name, which was surely where Alec, Isabelle, Max, and Robert came from.

Cecily Herondale's body had never been found, but she'd never been seen near the mansion. She'd either died inside the Institute or on Henry and Thomas' group to the mansion. Although recently there were rumours Tessa had overhead Maryse addressing about a girl found burned and tortured halfway out of her mind on the streets of London two days after that night, weak beyond belief, and calling herself Cecilia McHerons. She'd apparently stayed in the London Royal Hospital for three weeks before dying of injuries too great. The world had always put it down to some sort of witchcraft ritual somewhere due to the injuries and the strange black symbols drawn on her body, but the Institute in London had determined that she might have been a Shadowhunter, and they'd then connected her to Cecily Herondale. Tessa hoped that Cecily had actually died inside the Institute, however unlikely that sounded. Three weeks of suffering in a hospital was a painful end, and Cecily would have preferred to die in a place where she'd fought to live.

The Institute had been completely destroyed. According to what Tessa heard, it had been left vacant for about fifty years before being rebuild way past the Victorian Era, because nobody had been willing to take charge of the Institute on the grounds that it was rumoured to be unlucky since Charlotte and Benedict, the two contenders as directors, had died.

Women running Institutes had become common after Charlotte had made her proofs and her sacrifice. Not that anybody remembered that it was 'Charlotte Jane Branwell née Fairchild' who had changed everything?

The vision of the two buildings alongside the Institute, separated by a void of crumbling rocks and destroyed structures instead of a lovely and majestic church, woke her up screaming in the middle of the night and made her snuggle up with one of the Lightwoods in the middle of the night. They'd ask 'oh Church, why now? Why do you need to be pet now?', groggy with sleep and unhappy to be awake. Not because she was a cat; because she was a human girl, with human feelings and an inhuman hurt and void in her chest and she needed to know that not everything had crumbled.

Will… well, Mortmain had kept his promise. Will had remained untouched as Tessa and Mortmain and Benedict Lightwood left. Not that any good was made. The beautiful and serious church building that Tessa had come to see as cheerful and home was destroyed.

And Tessa had kept hers. She'd followed him; she'd accepted the help he'd offered to step into the carriage with the most impeccable manners. And then she had used the angel to blow up the carriage on their way to the 'lovely seaside cottage' Mortmain had mentioned, which wasn't very good etiquette. Of course, the two men had died in the explosion which shattered the carriage, killed the two automaton horses, and the Lightwood driver as well. Mortmain's eyes had had the time to widen to the size of saucers after seeing Tessa remove the long pin from her necklace.

Tessa had nearly died herself, but the warlock blood had come through to her surprise. She nearly wished that it hadn't.

She looked for Will for ages. She talked to Institutes in Wales, Scotland and Ireland. She went to Paris, Madrid, Barcelona, Venice, Rome, Prague, Amsterdam… She saw the world but didn't look. Not for anything but him.

She assumed, for the longest time, that he had died. That he had not made it through the automaton wall and that they had killed him despite Mortmain's promise, which broke Tessa inside.

Now she could paint a picture in her mind about what was going on.

He must have heard about the carriage and assumed that Tessa had perished with them. No bodies had ever been found, only bits. Will must have assumed that she was just another one of those bodies that didn't exist as a whole anymore. Maybe he'd searched for Thomas, Henry and Cecily. Perhaps he'd discovered bodies that Tessa didn't know about. Or even worst he'd looked and looked to find nothing.

Then he must have gone to Idris, the only home he had left, and such out of default since all Shadowhunters were home there. He must have hated it. He mustn't have found it home. Or maybe it was green and healthy and natural enough to be a bit like Wales. He'd have found work, perhaps teaching children how to fight. He'd taught Tessa well. Then he must've gotten married, that mustn't have been hard with his face and charms. Then the children had came, and his bloodline had survived up to this day, where it now lied in New York. Under Tessa's nose the whole time…

She threw her head back and leaned it against the Institute's wall. She tried to stop crying. They'd hear her. They'd never heard her, but now they would, and they would be crazy shocked to find a girl in an old Victorian dress and corset crying in their hallways. They wouldn't believe that she was their cat either.

Tessa tried to imagine a funny scene where Alec would research whether or not a concealed warlock could pass through Institute Gates, while Jace would try to find the blue Persian fur on her as evidence, and then they'd end up calling Magnus Bane.

The thought of Jace made her cry. She'd been so sure that she'd missed her last chance to talk to him… No. He'd been alive. They'd still had a chance.

* * *

Magnus swung open the door. Heavy, oddly-shaped cloth bags were piled there behind him, as well as an empty aquarium balanced at the top. He had a pipe in the corner of his mouth and he wore clothes for travel.

"Why, if it's not Theresa Gray, long time no see, you've been seeing the world now haven't you? Been gone for a while, haven't you? Found a place where the grass is green and the boys are pretty? Do give me the address."

"Where are you going?" She asked, her eyes fixated on all the bags.

"Me? Oh, I'm hearing that the automatons are back to running amuck the city, and that's not my piece of cake. You must be scared witless of that. He's programmed them to hate those who hurt him, you know. I consider death very hurtful."

"Yes," Tessa said. "I am. So you're just leaving these automatons running here?"

"There's nothing I can do about it. Besides, I've been in London too long. I've even developed the bloody accent. See? I'm saying bloody. To hell with that, I've got to get out of here. Woolsey will be keeping the house if you're interested in finding a place to stay, though. Plus he could surely bring you to all the Downworlder pubs and forge you a social life."

"Take me with you." Tessa said.

"What?"

"Take me with you."

"Why would I do that?" Magnus asked.

"Because you owe me, warlock." Tessa snarled.

"Oh, watch out, we're bringing species in here now." Magnus said mockingly, his hands up in the air. "You're not any better than me, might I inform you Miss Gray."

"Take me with you. I… I've learned to change into animals."

"Did you now?"

"Yes. And I can turn into something small, I can fit in a bag if I want to. I just need to get out of London. Out of Europe, even," Tessa said. "Please Magnus. I… I _need _this."

"He broke your heart didn't he?"

"Not on purpose."

"But it's broken."

"Yes."

"And he did it."

"Yes," Tessa said.

Magnus examined her for a minute.

"Well, I have always been one for the hopelessly tragic romances, look at where my love life is going. You can hitch a ride."

He stepped aside and invited her into the house. Tessa's clothes were wet from the drizzle falling over London, but Magnus didn't care. Woolsey would be the one cleaning up the place after this, anyway.

"Can you do a ferret? I would like that."

Tessa looked around. She hadn't stayed in a real house for a long time. Pubs and hostels, forgiving and admiring (perhaps fearful of her) Institutes who had taken pity, even a coffee shop or the streets sometimes had been her residences lately.

Magnus was still talking, "Or a snake so I can drape you over my shoulders."

"I'm a very pretty cat."

"Because you're a very pretty girl. Alright, but fish ain't cheap. By the time we get there _you'll _end up owing _me." _Magnus said.

"I'll stay out of your legs after this." Tessa said. "I… I think I know where to go. Don't worry."

* * *

"_And though the sea and land separate us still_

_Though men and demon try to break our will_

_I know the angels have lined our stars_

_I know that one day we'll break through the bars._

Tessa wiped at her eyes. Evidently not. Will's poem, her engagement gift although the engagement had never grown into more, was a lie. It may be the most beautiful lie in the world, but beauty didn't make everything well. Look at Will, or Jessamine.

She was one of those Greek tragedies, where the characters knew that things were bad, but where bad descended quite quickly into horrible and then everything fell apart for everyone and there was no chance to fix things just as there had been no chance to catch yourself.

_But for now the choice is yours, and your hand is his_

_And I wish you both long lives and bliss_

_But still, one day I know this to be true:_

_I'll die and the last words on my lips will be about you."_

She wondered if that last part was true. Will was gone now. Her Will had probably died that very night, or the few nights afterwards as the world collapsed. William Herondale to the world had died over a hundred years ago in a land far, far away.

It was she and Magnus now. And Jem, but Jem wasn't human and he wasn't anywhere Tessa could talk to him or be close. Everyone had died, but she and Magnus had lived. And soon enough it would still be she and Magnus and everyone else would have died too. She knew this as she watched the warlock brush Alec's hand with his, or Simon try to creep up on Isabelle for a kiss although she always heard him coming. When Simon make Clary laugh until she'd snort. As Magnus warned Simon. She knew this as she watched Jace (oh Jace) and Clary kiss or cuddle. She knew this when she saw the Lightwood siblings mess each other's hair and she tried to determine who it upset more. Really she looked at the world and she picked out what would stay and what would die. The numbers weren't balanced, but Tessa knew this:

In her head, she saw Henry studying blueprints or faulty prototypes during breakfast. She saw him kissing Charlotte, a hand on her swollen stomach. She saw Charlotte, small and determined and full of leadership, and she saw her calming Jessamine and Will. She saw Jem playing on his violin or trying to write poetry that he would never finish and whose rhymes didn't actually rhyme. She saw Will immersed in a book like only Will could, and she saw Will move like a shadow brought to life in a fight.

In her head they were real. And in Magnus' head Alec would be real. In Simon's, Isabelle would be his first girlfriend, the first love with whom he'd had a chance. Jace and Clary would be engraved in all their memories and hearts. So maybe they were all forever. Maybe everything was forever once someone cared about it. Maybe just daring to release that love in that world made it last forever. Maybe things didn't have to be marble sculptures or gouache painting to last forever as long as it'd mattered in the moment.

Tessa wiped at her eyes once more.

Would the tears be forever too? Would they ever stop? She'd need to know that considering she was immortal.

* * *

Emma crumpled the note in her hand and walked through the waiter-style doors into the greenhouse.

The greenhouse had been full of plants when Emma had been a child, mostly because of an old Shadowhunter who was now in Belgium; Jacinth Shell. She'd loved her flowers and plants with her whole heart. But after she'd moved out nobody had been able to keep the plants alive and eventually they had all died. Julian had then decided he loved painting and slowly but surely the greenhouse had become his place. Most people found the greenhouse too humid anyways.

When the doors burst open and hit the walls, Julian turned around, as if knowing that it was Emma Carstair coming in. Very few people made entrances as big and violent as Emma's.

"What's wrong Ems?" He asked his Blackthorn blue-green eyes calm and bright at once.

Emma threw the note on his lap, nearly getting red paint all over it.

"I don't get this," Emma said. "I really, really don't. These notes have been all over my room for _weeks. _Tell me if this is the handwriting of one of your siblings."

"Probably not," Julian said, twirling a pencil whose tip was a dark green colour in his hand. "They know that you're stressed out enough as it is."

"They're not all you," she said taking a stool meant for models but that was now Emma's-stool-in-the-greenhouse, and bringing it closer. She sat down. "They're notall you."

Julian unfolded the letters and the harsh black words jumped out at Emma's eyes once more.

_I will not let my enemy escape through generations_

* * *

**This is the post that inspired this:**

**Church **

_"Is Church the cat in TMI the same cat as in ID?"_

I guess it's time to come clean. Church the cat in The Mortal Instruments is actually Tessa.

I can't speak about the tragic events at the end of Clockwork Princess, but let's just say that Tessa is left alone to fend for herself. She's learned to transform into animals as well as people so she transforms into Church and hitches a ride with Magnus when he emigrates to New York. Disguised as a cat, she is safe from Mortmain and his evil minions, so she stays that way and moves into the Institute when she hears the Lightwoods are taking over since she remembers Gideon fondly, despite the incident with the hurdy-gurdy that made Sophie realize she could never love him.

When the Mortal War breaks out and the Lightwoods all leave Church behind Tessa realizes she still owes the Shadowhunters loyalty and follows Magnus to Idris to take part in the battle. That's why she has her human form in the scene where Clary glimpses her at the end of Glass. The reason she looks familiar to Clary is that she has not completely transformed back and still has cat ears.

Also, many have asked what she and Magnus are discussing. Tessa knows Magnus owns a cat and is hoping he can convince the Lightwoods to change their brand of dry cat food.

(The tags were in the likes of 'April Fools' and 'joke')


End file.
